


Can I Help You?

by midas_touch_of_angst



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, All the Wrong Questions - Lemony Snicket
Genre: I don't think we really even know which side she's on, I'm actually kinda surprised nobody's done a fic like this yet, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Violence, Like we legitimately know like 3 things about Beatrice S, Morally Ambiguous Character, Morally Grey Beatrice Snicket, Which is of course what I'm playing on, grey morality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 15:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midas_touch_of_angst/pseuds/midas_touch_of_angst
Summary: [One-Shot]A reporter receives a strange visit from a strange little girl.





	Can I Help You?

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick one-shot practice. I might write a fic featuring some ideas I have, but this is kinda a test, to see if I like writing it and people like reading it.

The Reporter walked in through the back door, observing what was going on around her. The printers were flying, papers were being shuffled around the office, and the sound of typewriters was so loud it could be heard from outside. The reporter put down her tea on a side table, nodding to an assistant as they handed her the telegrams she'd received for the day. She scanned through them all, seeing crosswords sent in by the children of the town and fake news from people who wanted attention. She threw them down on the desk of the Puzzle Editor and continued on.

"Ms! Ms!" Another reporter flew down the aisle, waving some papers in front of her.

"Not now, I've got an appointment in an hour and I have to clear my office." the Reporter said, wondering why she'd put her tea down, as she was starting to want it again.

"Ms, it's not for a story." the other reporter said. "There's a girl in the lobby. She's been there a few hours, wants to talk to you."

"Me specifically?"

"Well, she asked for the Editor-in-Chief. Wouldn't talk to anyone else." 

The Reporter sighed. "Well, alright, I'll see how quick I can make it."

She turned around, walking into the lobby instead of going straight to her office. Pushing open the door, she took another look around: it was like it always was, people standing in line at the desk to buy newspapers, some teenagers sitting in the waiting area, playing with the puzzles and reading the passages to each other, adults sitting in the back and chatting amiably while waiting for other people. As she scanned the room, her eyes were drawn to the smallest child in the room, guessing that this was who she was supposed to meet. Her dark eyes were looking at the newspaper, a bright smile on her face. She held one of the candles to it, something that would normally terrify a Newspaper Writer but only made the Reporter smile. Her Newspapers featured small Easter Eggs written in Invisible Ink as a tribute to the town's savior and a personal friend of hers, and it was nice to see that the girl had figured it out.

The girl looked up to see the Reporter had entered, her smile somehow growing bigger. She put the candle down, placed the newspaper onto a table, and bounced to her feet, skipping over to the Reporter. She asked her name, and the Reporter responded. The girl grinned. "Great!" she said, with a light voice. "So you're who I'm here to see!"

"I guess so." the Reporter responded, and then asked the question that titles this story.

"I think you can! Can we speak in your office?" the girl asked, pulling a small, red notebook and orange pen from her pocket and looking up excitedly.

Well, the Reporter didn't want to say no to somebody who looked interested in her area of expertise. She nodded and led the girl down to the office, smiling a little as the girl peered through doorways and windows, looking excited at the flurry of activity around her.

Once they entered the office, the girl skipped to a chair and flopped down, kicking her legs as she waited for the Reporter to sit. "So, are you interested in Reporting?" the Editor asked.

"It certainly is interesting." the girl said. "I do prefer baticeering, but I love the job of a reporter. Finding stuff out, getting the story before anyone else... it's a very exciting job."

"I would say that." the Reporter laughed. "It's been my dream since I was younger than you..." Maybe? It was hard to tell how old this girl was- she could be anywhere from a tall seven-year-old to a short thirteen-year-old. "Well, and look what happened."

"Yes!" the girl nodded. "Now, if you don't mind, I just have a few questions for you?"

"Sure." the Reporter shrugged. "Is this for a school project?" Suddenly, something crept into her mind: in her visits to the nearby school, she hadn't ever seen this girl. "Do you go to school here?"

The girl shook her head. "No, I'm privately schooled. I'm just passing through, I'm going to meet my Uncle in the City. But I thought I'd like to interview you."

"Well, I guess." Something seemed a little off, but the Reporter shook her head to clear it and did what she normally did when something was bothering her: began to multi-task. As the girl opened her book, the Reporter started to clean up a little. She did want her office to be clean for her appointment later.

"So, to what do you owe the success of your Newspaper?" the girl asked. "It  _is_ true that you built it up from the ground, correct?"

"Well, I wouldn't say  _that_." the Reporter said, starting to stack her messy papers. "After the success of Ms. Hix-Knight's Invisible Ink Formula, the town started to re-populate itself. I notice you saw the Invisible Ink Clues in the Paper?" 

The girl nodded. "Yes! Little puzzles and everything! I  _love_ puzzles, my teachers would give them to me all the time!"

The feeling that something was wrong crept back again, but the Reporter instead started shuffling the content of the drawers to block it out. "Well, that made the paper a very good sell. Even people outside of this town would buy our news to see what we'd hidden. I got the idea from... well, from an old friend." Now  _that_ was something she did  _not_ want to talk about. "Also, with a bigger population, more people need jobs, so the Newspaper Business gets bigger."

"That's very interesting." the girl nodded, scribbling something down in her book. "Now, how do you create these puzzles?"

"We have a team of editors that figure out what to put and where. Oftentimes we'll have answers to crosswords written in the Invisible Ink instead of wasting space on an answer key. I usually don't help with that part, I focus on helping the Editing Process and doing some Reporting myself."

"Yes, is it hard to both Report and Edit?"

"Well, hard work is important."

The girl nodded, and the Reporter started to feel that the girl was genuinely enjoying herself. Smiling a little, she spun her chair around to check on the ink in the printer.

"Now, I do have another question."

"Shoot."

The girl smiled, a smile very different from her previous ones. And the question she asked made the Reporter freeze in place, her skin growing cold.

"What's the news, Moxie?"

Nobody had said that to her in years. There was only person she could have picked that up from... and she was suddenly back there again, thinking of the last time he'd said it to her. He'd said it as if all should go back to normal, as if she hadn't just witnessed a horrible monster break through the train, threatening to be the death of them all, and seen him push a man into its jaws, watching as the Monster, under his control, murdered the man. The Reporter hadn't been alright for years after that, nightmares plaguing her even still, wondering how  _on Earth_ her old friend could have done that to someone, no matter how horrible. But try as she might, she couldn't hate him. She missed him, missed the time they'd spent together... but it wasn't enough to overcome the feeling of horror she'd felt when he had controlled the Beast.

The room was still and silent for at least a minute, with the Reporter trying to compose herself, her thoughts somehow both racing and frozen, as the girl sat back in her chair, still smiling that dark smile.

"I didn't tell you the name of my Uncle, did I, Ms. Mallahan?"

It took a few seconds for the Reporter to even respond. "N-no."

"That was a rhetorical question, Ms. Mallahan," the girl said. "A phrase which here means, 'we both already know the answer.'" Her voice was suddenly not so light and peppy, sounding much older and colder than before. She no longer sounded like a bright child, sounding much more like... like _he_ had. "I told you, Ms. Mallahan, that I was going to meet my Uncle in the city. The thing is, I doubt my Uncle even knows I exist. Most people don't; I doubt he has even received my letters. So he doesn't know I'm coming. Nor do I know where he will be this Friday, when I will be free to meet him. I do believe, however, that an Editor-in-Chief of a prestigious newspaper who knows the man I speak of will easily be able to find out. So, I have one last question for you before you can begin." The girl leaned forwards, as the Reporter tried to breathe normally. "Has someone you once knew passed through here recently? Someone from your childhood, perhaps?"

"He's dead. You're wasting your time." 

The girl snorted. "I think we both know that's a lie, Ms. Mallahan. Did you  _ever_ once think that could be true?"

The Reporter struggled to keep her breath steady, tried to keep her eyes open, so she couldn't see the monster's image under her eyelids. "I... I can't see him again." 

The girl snorted. "What, you can't help a poor little girl who's looking for her Uncle?" After a second, she added. "I'm not asking you to talk to him yourself, and I'm not really going to see him because I want to _meet_ him. I'm sure he'll just try to get me to pick a side, or he'll just tell me I'm too young to be dealing with it all. That's what all the adults always tell me. No, but he can help me find someone."

"Who?" the Reporter managed, finally sitting upright in her chair, trying to decide whether or not to turn to face her.

"My Mother."

Oh.

The Reporter juggled her thoughts. She could definitely relate to this girl's struggle, but that might be the intention; if this girl had somehow known about "What's the news?", she could easily just be playing her. Manipulating her for her own ends.

"Well, all my Guardians, really." the girl said. "I believe he's the only one who can find them."

The Reporter stayed silent.

"You know, you could help me." the girl shrugged. "I believe it would be in your best interest to. You don't want me as your enemy."

The girl may be young, true, but the Reporter knew what children could do. What people in her family had already done. She didn't doubt her for a second. Still, she didn't want the girl to make threats; the Reporter could deal with those. "What if, instead of calling my friends, I call the police on you?"

The girl laughed. "On a tiny, lost girl? Really, Ms. Mallahan. I've escaped the law plenty of times before, do you really think a Snicket can be held by prison bars for long?"

The Reporter did not want to reply.

"I did ask if someone you once knew passed through, correct?" the girl added. "So, are you going to answer me?"

The Reporter thought. She felt small, much smaller than the small girl behind her. "I don't believe so. But... I can find out where he is."

"Good. I expect an update tomorrow. I will be in town until Thursday Morning, when  _my_ associates will need my instructions. I think you know which Coffee House Attic I will be staying in. Even now, nobody goes up there. Perfect place to keep secrets, isn't it?

The woman gripped her chair's arm. She thought of calling Cleo, Jake, Pip and Squeak,  _anyone_. But not until the girl left. 

She jumped when the girl, almost as if reading her thoughts, said, "Oh, and make sure my Uncle's old associates are on the lookout, as well. The more eyes, the more information. But should one of them contact the organization- and you know which organization I mean- there will be consequences. I have associates who owe me, who can do many things, who can make things look like... accidents. Like I said, Ms. Mallahan, you do not want to cross me. I will not let  _anything_ stand between me and my family. Surely you understand that?"

She sounded so much like him. Come to think of it, she also sounded like  _her_. 

"I will assume your silence signals compliance." the girl said. "I would like to apologize for any inconvenience this assignment will cause you, I do have a great respect for you and your newspaper. Thank you for your time."

She stood to leave, walking slowly. The Reporter slowly turned, watching her bushy hair bounce with the steps she took. The girl did not walk as she had before- when she had been skipping, smiling, seemingly carefree. She had a different feel to her now, of someone who was in complete control, and who knew it.

The girl stopped at the doorway, turning ever so slightly, watching the Reporter from the corner of her eye. "You know," she said, "You shouldn't keep so many candles in the lobby. One of them could... _fall_."

They were both silent for a while, as the girl let this statement sink in. Finally, she shrugged and said, "I expect your report tomorrow afternoon. Address it to Celia Audra Beetribe and make sure it reaches the attic."

"Celia Audra." the Reporter said. "That's not your name, is it?"

The girl shook her head. "Names are powerful, Moxie. That's why I make it my business to know everyone's. And... should you ever see her again, give my regards to Ms. Feint. Tell her B would like to see her."

And she left, leaving a shaken reporter behind her.


End file.
